


larkspur

by bells-mannequin (bellsmannequin)



Series: zinnia [2]
Category: Ano Hi Mita Hana no Namae o Boku-tachi wa Mada Shiranai
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Poppo-centric, ish?, the big import of 2015 of all my stories to one archive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 08:56:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3686133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellsmannequin/pseuds/bells-mannequin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poppo doesn't dream much—but when he does, it always revolves around the sweetest girl he'll ever know, telling him, "We will see the world together, Poppo! We'll visit the whole world, and we'll dance and eat and have so much fun!"  — Poppo, and how the world will always need more laughter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	larkspur

.

.

.

( _I love how funny you are_ )

.

.

.

One night, sooner rather than later, Poppo decides that he is going on a trip.  
  
He really isn't much for dreaming, for promises left unfulfilled and—he's going on the trip, and he'll visit the whole world, and he'll dance and eat and have loads of fun, because that's just the kind of guy he is.

—

(((Being in Jintan's presence is the hardest.)))  
  
"Ossu!"  
  
"Morning, Poppo …" Jintan smiles, and it's not quite the confident one from their childhood but it's not that awkward … thing anymore, either. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Ah, I'm just going to the grocery story … boy needs his vegetables, heh?"  
  
Jintan nods with a small smile, so disarmingly careful—and Poppo-… Poppo doesn't know what to say anymore.  
  
(((I still feel so guilty. Poppo wonders if he is the only one who thinks it.)))

—

Poppo has never belonged to the love dodecahedron consisting of the Super Peace Busters. Maybe because he is a bit younger? Maybe because he was always charismatic, great Jintan's sidekick? Maybe because he's the type of guy to get friend-zoned a lot?  
  
Who knows.  
  
What he knows is that none of the girls (or boys, for that matter) have any romantic feelings for him—and that he himself, too, has never felt that kind of love for any of them; not for shining, cute Menma, nor for funny, pretty Anaru, or pragmatic, sweet Tsuruko.  
  
He feels glad for that. Very.  
  
Back then, he couldn't have known what a blessing this would turn out to be (back then, he didn't even recognise how confusing and tangled that web of relationships was, apart from Jintan liking Menma, because that was way too obvious) but after years of musing and thinking and guilt-tripping himself, he knows it would have been much more horrible (than it already is) to have romantic feelings for any of his friends.  
  
That's maybe the sad thing: Without that romantic love, the Super Peace Busters would have never broken apart like they did after—  
  
(((Menma's death)))  
  
((say it already, think it, you big fat coward—))  
  
but without it, they would have never belonged that closely together, either. Right?

Poppo wants to know these kind of things. He thinks about them, thinksthinksthinks, until his head hurts and he still doesn't have an answer to his question.  
  
Something is missing.  
  
(That isn't the problem. The problem is, how do you cope with it?)

—

"Hey, Poppo." Yukiatsu and he meet often these days, coincidentally mostly, because the Secret Base is closest to Yukiatsu's home and they both like the same grocer. The products she sells, that is. Honestly. (Though she is pretty damn cute, too.)  
  
"Yo, Yukiatsu. Hey, look at those eggplants—don't they look tasty?"  
  
Yukiatsu inspects the basket of violet vegetables and looks thoughtful. "Hm. I never liked eggplants."  
  
"Sometimes I feel like you don't like things on purpose, just so you can distance yourself from people." Poppo doesn't know why he said that. It just—flew out of his mouth or something. Shit. Shitshitshit.  
  
Yukiatsu is the most cruel of all of them, that's an established fact (even when Tsuruko is the only one constantly calling him out on that), but the sad thing is, it's a learned cruelty. Like other people shy away from confrontation, or get loud to hide the quiet hurt in their hearts, Yukiatsu wields his cruelness like a weapon.  
  
"Like you're one to speak," Yukiatsu says after a silence that feels like eternity—but in a too-mild tone, with not-enough restrained anger. It sounds almost soft, with something akin to empathy? Then, a look of frustration flits across his face, and he lets out a long sigh. "I don't judge you or anything, Poppo. It's just … you have to let go. You have to." His old friend stares into the horizon, almost looking heroic if it weren't for the utter frustration in his eyes, the lingering hate around his mouth. "We all do."

—

The thing is, Poppo knows, that mostly, just they have to. Yukiatsu and him, that is. Anaru, Tsuruko, Jintan—their guilt is of a different kind. The stupid kind of guilt where you basically know that you didn't really do anything wrong, and that you couldn't have done anything to change the situation, the past (Menma's death), that what you feel is what you feel, and sometimes, you just can't help falling for the wrong person, can't help feeling the ugly emotions of envy, jealousy, frustration.  
  
It's just the two of them.  
  
Yukiatsu with all the hate he carries with him, in his heart, around his mouth, like a second skin—Yukiatsu who hurts like he loves and who should seriously go talk to a shrink.  
  
And him, of course. Poppo. Hisakawa Tetsudou. The one who saw his childhood friend fucking floating in the water of the current in which they floundered around in summer, always.  
  
The one who didn't do anything about it.

  
—

(((Some days he feels like a murderer.)))

—

((Thanks to Kami, most days, he doesn't.))  
  
(Most days he knows that he couldn't have done anything more than alert Menma's parents and the ambulance a little earlier of the corpse of his childhood friend in the water.)  
  
(Most days, he knows that he isn't as guilty as he feels, and that he is deserving of happiness, and that Menma never thought that he did anything wrong, and that despite it all, Menma loved him as much as she loved the rest of the Super Peace Busters. Most days, he knows that she knows how much he loved her, too.)

—

Poppo doesn't have many dreams. He's not one to imagine a lot of stuff, seriously, and he believes that the hands-on approach is always the simplest, most efficient. He likes to touch the things he works with, and he likes to have a memento for the things he builds. He likes being a construction worker, and Poppo doesn't dream about working as a mason in the future—he _knows_ that's what he's going to do, five or ten years down the road.  
  
Poppo doesn't dream much—but when he does, it always revolves around the sweetest girl he'll ever know, telling him, "We will see the world together, Poppo! We'll visit the whole world, and we'll dance and eat and have so much fun!"

—

One night, sooner than later, Poppo decides that he is going on a trip.

—  
  


"So, what's the route you're going to take?" Tsuruko asks as they cross the street. She walks her bike next to a Yukiatsu in jogging clothes. She smiles more, he notices fondly, more and genuinely.  
  
"Ah … I don't know, yet. I mean, I'm going in three months or so, so it's not as if there's a hurry or something … I think I'm going wherever my feet take me." He grins.  
  
"You need to have a plan, or else nothing will work." — "What is the difference to what you did back then?"  
  
They speak at the same time, and Poppo's smirk only widens. It's just so them to be frank and blunt whenever it's about anything but themselves (their own feelings).  
  
They share a glance before Yukiatsu turns his head a little to the side, as if allowing her to speak first. That bastard, Poppo thinks, and snorts.  
  
"You need to visit Russia," she surprises him with the voice she uses, and with the warmth she has in her eyes as she says the words, "you have to put a paper boat on the Moskva River."  
  
(Menma.)  
  
"Oh, and you should also visit Germany," she continues and it is her usual tone and voice again (((isn't he thankful for that))).  
  
"I've always wanted to go to the Oktoberfest," Poppo acknowledges, hand in a thinking motion on his chin, and Yukiatsu chuckles and says something like, well, well, still waters run deep after all, huh?  
  
"Of course it's not because of that," Tsuruko says without batting an eye—it's no fun teasing her, Poppo thinks good-naturedly, "I've always wanted to go to Berlin, and to Hamburg, and some towns in the then-DDR, too. Germany has such a rich history."

"Yes, yes," Yukiatsu says, grin tugging at his mouth. Then he turns to Poppo and adds: "You should go to Scotland. And Casablanca."  
  
(Menma, convincing them to play out Harry Potter scenes. Menma, dancing, swooning to _As Time Goes By_. Menma, Menma, Menma.)  
  
Tsuruko nods, looking all solemn.  
  
Poppo scratches his head with a sheepish smile and says: "Sheesh, if you want it so bad, then sure, I can visit these places …"

They smile in unison: smug and sceptical ((and a little bit sad)).

—

  
The next day, Tsuruko comes to the hideout with a new, unblemished map of the world and a bunch of stuff only overachievers like her need: colour-coordinated pins, highlighters, and all that jazz.  
  
When he continues staring at her while she brews their fruit tea, she just shrugs and says: "I hate people who do things half-heartedly." Then she smiles and takes the edge out of the words by admitting: "It may be a bit hypocritical, but that's only human, I suppose."  
  
"Going soft with your age, eh, Tsuruko?" He only said it to himself, but Tsuruko with her crazy hearing still turns around quickly. She looks shocked at first, caught red-handed, but then, the slope of her shoulders softens like her smile does nowadays. Still surprising, a little weird maybe, but gentle, so gentle.  
  
Then, Anaru enters and knocks, in that order, and starts ranting about her new P.E. teacher and how annoying her schoolmates are and there's this school drama with love triangles and yada yada.  
  
After she has gone out of words and air, she flops on her chair, sips the tea Poppo poured in for her, and says: "What are you guys doing, anyways?"  
  
Tsuruko raises an eyebrow and says, almost-smirking: "Planning Poppo's world trip."

"What?!" Anaru looks shocked, and not in the positive way either. "When?!"  
  
"September eighteen," answers Tsuruko for him even though he never told her or Yukiatsu (or anyone for that matter) the exact date.  
  
Poppo feels his jaw go slack with surprise.

(This year, she would have turned eighteen.)  
  
"Ah," Anaru utters, "is that so." Then, she straightens her posture. "Close your mouth, Poppo, you look like an idiot. And add New Zealand to the list. You have to take pictures of the kiwi birds."  
  
(Menma, with stars in her eyes as Frodo and Sam wander through green valleys, high mountains, blue skies.)  
  
"Oh, and San Francisco, too! It's so beautiful on the pictures I've seen! And New York! And L.A.! And—"  
  
Tsuruko, without waiting for any confirmation on his part, marks the locations on the map.  
  
New Zealand is white, while the others are green.

—

  
Two weeks before his trip, Jintan and Poppo have a sleepover.  
  
It sounds weird, Poppo realises, as he tells Yukiatsu exactly that. Yukiatsu raises his eyebrows, as usual, and frowns, as usual, but he also nods after a long while, and says, "Cool. Send me a picture when you're done with braiding each other's hair, yeah?" which is ultimately new and good.  
  
I can handle Yukiatsu's shitty sarcasm, he thinks.  
  
I can sing with Anaru to the radio station, he thinks.  
  
I can drink tea with Tsuruko, he thinks.  
  
(It's not like there aren't any bad days anymore, when he feels guilty, moody, pissed at the world and Menma and Jintan and about everyone, but he can handle it, handle it well, and Tsuruko would call it healing and Anaru getting back on track and Yukiatsu more like getting your shit together, idiot, but they all mean the same thing—and what does it matter what it's called, when he knows what it does?)  
  
"D'you remember? Looking for shooting stars?" Jintan says into the cool spring night.  
  
"Ah. We always did that when we slept at yours. Menma said that the sky was its clearest at your place."  
  
"We never found one, did we?"  
  
"No. But I didn't mind. It was fun, lying on the lawn, looking for them, just wishing they would appear. I loved those nights."  
  
"When you're back from your trip, we can do it again—with the others, too. Even though I don't think it'd be easy to convince Yukiatsu to a sleepover."  
  
"Yeah … I'd like that."  
  
"Hey … Poppo. I … I'm really happy for you. You know, for living your dream." Jintan sounds so … serene. So genuine.  
  
"I'll send postcards. Letters. E-mails." Maybe Jintan doesn't notice. Maybe he acts like he doesn't notice. Either way, Poppo's just glad that he doesn't say anything at the sight of his tears. It's embarrassing enough, being the big guy and crying like a kid. "You won't even notice that I'm not there 'cause I'm gonna bug the hell outta you guys. Russia, Germany, Scotland, Morocco, New Zealand, America—I'll see all those countries, and then I'm coming back, and …" He breathes in. Out. In. Out. "Jintan, promise me that you'll get better, too."  
  
Jintan doesn't answer—but he nods, and for Poppo, that's enough.  
  
He has faith in his friends.  
  


—

  
"No, Anaru," Poppo repeats, for the fourth time.  
  
"But we really could—" she says, tears already shining in her expressive eyes.  
  
Tsuruko steps closer, putting a gentle hand on the other girl's shoulder. "Poppo has to do this alone, Anjou." She sounds a lot meaner than they all know she is (and that's saying something …), and she uses Anaru's surname, two things that make the bitch in Anaru roar to life. Tsuruko needs just one second too much to hide the pleased smirk, but that's enough for Poppo—and the other two guys—to start laughing. The truth is, Tsuruko is just a bit ol' softie at heart (if it isn't being turned to stone by that idiot Yukiatsu), and also, the truth is: he wants to do it alone.  
  
This is it.  
  
He'll go travel, and he'll enjoy his life, and he'll carry Menma's wish and memory with him all the way.  
  
She won't hold him down, she'll make him fly, of that Poppo is sure. _I love how funny you are_ —he'll show everyone how true that simple sentence (the biggest compliment anyone has given him) is.  
  
"Poppo," Jintan says with a last look on the clock hanging on the wall of their secret base. "Don't go too late or you'll miss your bus."  
  
That shakes Anaru out of her Tsuruko-induced anger, and the tears come again. "I'll miss you _soooo much_!" she wails before giving him a bone-crushing hug that squeezes a few tears out of his eyes as well.  
  
"Me too, Anaru," he answers with a big grin, trying to burn the image of her pretty face into his memory.  
  
He and Yukiatsu shake hands firmly, like the manly men they are (snort), and Tsuruko makes him a present of her most honest smile and an expensive-looking pocket knife. She lets him hug her, too, and as he feels a few strands of her hair tickling his neck, he wonders how long it will grow in their time apart.  
  
Last comes Jintan—not his leader anymore, not his hero, not something to look up to … just a friend with a whole bag of problems and a heart big enough to conquer it all—he smiles, and a little of the honest sweetness that Poppo always associated Menma seeps through. They hug each other, and Poppo notes how it is the first time since coming back to Japan that he doesn't marvel how small Jintan is—how tall Poppo himself is.  
  
"See you, Poppo."  
  
And Poppo says something heroic for once in his life, something meaningful (a little sappy, too, a voice similar to Tsuruko's says dryly in his head).  
  
He says: "I'll see the world for you, guys! Bye! I love you."

**Author's Note:**

> zinnia: thoughts of absent friends. Larkspur: symbolizes an open heart. White = happy-go-lucky nature, pink = fickleness, purple = sweet disposition and first love. Larkspur is also used to show a desire for laughter and a pure heart in the Victorian language of flowers.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any of the used characters or images, nor do I profit in any way from fanfiction. All rights belong to their respective owners.
> 
> Also, thanks for seireeii (girl, what's your recent pen name??) for beta-ing. 
> 
> Comments/kudos are always lovely :)


End file.
